


A Very Specific Store

by startswithhope



Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Business Partners, Canon Compliant as to rest of events in S3 outside of David and Patrick's relationship, Christmas World doesn't back out, Coming Out, Falling In Love, Fluff and Humor, M/M, Sharing a Bed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-29
Updated: 2019-07-29
Packaged: 2020-07-26 17:42:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,448
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20030752
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/startswithhope/pseuds/startswithhope
Summary: What if Christmas World didn't pull out? How would David and Patrick meet? And what would that mean for Rose Apothecary? Come along, for a little holiday tale, a Christmas in July story of first meetings, flirting, some misunderstandings, dreams lost and maybe found, along with a whole lot more (with some bed sharing, because that's always an extra special gift for us all).





	A Very Specific Store

**Author's Note:**

> All of the other events of Season 3 go on around David and Patrick, so some plot points I won't fully explain as they will be implied as happening as we saw them. (e.g., Sebastien Raine, the lice outbreak, etc.)

When he went in to interview with Wendy at The Blouse Barn, David truly thought he’d never have to do something that demeaning in his work life ever again. Sitting there, amongst the skanky mannequins and a sea of rayon and spandex, his world had never felt more bleak.

Until today.

Standing outside the building that could have been his, if maybe for just a little while, bleak doesn’t even begin to describe the way that he feels. It’s been painted a garish green, big red letters outlined in snow dripped white proclaiming “Christmas World” has indeed moved into the old general store. His mother had sworn to him that she’d gone back to the Council to plead his case, but the deal was already done and there was simply, “nothing I could do and I am beside myself with regret” or some other pontification with multi-syllable words. It’s been a month and he’s mostly forgiven her, or at least compartmentalized his anger the same way he learned to quarantine most things about his current living situation.

He hates that he feels as though he’s regressed, but the idea he’d had for the store had become a thing to look forward to, a goal to get him out of bed in the morning and face another day in this town. After two weeks spent mostly in bed, he’d finally gotten so annoyed with Stevie popping in throughout the day, each time wearing another of his sweaters, the expensive sleeves bunched up in her hands like he’d used to do with his Dad’s knits as a child. Ignoring the little bit of warmth it ignited in his chest, he’d kicked himself out of the cocoon that was his comforter and demanded she take the latest one off, determined to spend the next two days airing them out and reorganizing his cedar chest. 

That’s how he’d rediscovered the sweater he’s wearing on this, the most shameful of days. The jagged black lines are a perfect mirror of the status of his heart, soul, will to live...but there’s a bit of silver-gray sparkle that whatever corporate drone doing the hiring at this place of holiday dreck might think is festive. 

Yes, he’s here to apply for a job. If he’s ever going to make something of himself, he needs money, and if he can get in before the high school kids drop off their resumes then maybe he can grab a more managerial position. He knows it’s a fool’s errand to have any such hope, but it’s the only thing giving him the strength to push his way through the door. 

Something over the door signals a mechanical version of “Jingle Bells” to play out, the tinny melody like a spiky earworm hammering straight into his brain. In reality, he knows it really isn’t that loud, but it represents the final nail in the coffin that was his dream for what this place could have become. The store is barely set up, but there are boxes overflowing with brightly colored ornaments, light up fireplace mantle decorations and snow globes...so...many...snow globes. Looking around, he doesn’t see anyone to speak to, so he tentatively walks behind the register and peeks his head into the back room. 

Despite his internal turmoil, he can’t stop himself from checking out the back of the man he sees bent over a desk against the wall. He may be depressed, but he’s not blind and that’s a great ass. 

“Hi.” The word comes out more like a whisper, but he blames that on the fact that he hasn’t spoken to anyone in days and his throat is a little bit dry. Obviously a bit startled, the man straightens and looks towards David and okay, he has really pretty brown eyes and a killer smile.

“Uh, hi. Can I help you?” 

“Yes, well, hopefully. I’m hoping to speak with a manager or someone about a job?” His voice sounds flustered and uncharacteristically soft to his own ears, but the man just smiles wider and takes a step forward with his hand outstretched.

“That’s me,” he says, grip warm and strong as he shakes David’s hand, “Patrick.”

“David Rose.” David smiles back at this too cute for his own good corporate drone he suddenly has to impress.

Patrick’s face registers recognition and David inwardly groans, preparing himself for whatever nonsense this guy has heard about his ridiculous family. 

“You were looking to lease this place, weren’t you?” Patrick’s looks a bit tentative having asked that and honestly, David doesn’t know what to say.

“Uh...how did you…?”

“Ray. I’m renting a room from him and he’s the one who got me this gig. Christmas World didn’t want to send any of their people to Schitt’s Creek and they needed someone who could manage the finances.” 

David doesn’t really know what to do with all of this information, so he just nods, his eyes roaming just a bit to take in the rest of this man, Patrick, his stocky frame well displayed in a dark blue oxford and questionable denim.

“Anyway…” Patrick continues, “I’m sorry your lease wasn’t picked up. I can imagine you’d have done something better than this.”

That comment perks David’s interest. “What makes you think that?”

Patrick shuffles a bit, leaning back against the desk as he crosses his arms over his chest. His eyes look away for a brief moment and David thinks he sees a light blush pink Patrick’s cheeks.

“Just a hunch,” Patrick replies, his smile this time a bit more pointed in a way that in any other circumstance David might register as flirtatious. But this guy, he’s just not someone who’d be interested in someone like David, so…

“Well, we’ll never know, will we?” Trying his best to keep the edge off his voice, he looks around the small storage room to see if there’s anyone else here helping Patrick out. “Is it just you here, or…”

“Just me. They’re a bit behind the eight ball with hiring staff and honestly, I could really use some help.”

“I don’t play tennis, so that metaphor means little to me, but if you’re saying you’re hiring, I’d be open to that kind of offer.” David is feeling a bit of his confidence return thanks to the easy way Patrick takes up space, self assured, but absent any real cockiness or arrogance. It’s different, but not bad different. Even now, as he’s chuckling at something David didn’t mean to be humorous, David is only finding that minimally annoying.

Patrick turns and begins rifling through various folders. “I guess I can call an audible...let me just…”

“I don’t know what that means.” David’s sure that’s another sports reference of some kind, but the only time he’s ever spent around anything athletic was either under the bleachers with curious football players or cheerleaders with very low standards. He knows he wasn’t his best version of himself in high school.

“Here, fill these out and you can start tomorrow,” Patrick says as he holds out a small stack of papers for David, his eyes bright and wide and hopeful. It’s clear as day that Patrick wants David to work here with him, but David has absolutely no idea why. 

“Really?”

“Yeah. I need help. You need a job. Seems like a match made in heaven, wouldn’t you agree?”

David looks around at the boxes overflowing with Christmas cheer and then back at the man offering him a much needed lifeline.

“More like Holiday Hell, but you’ve got yourself a deal.”

❄

* * *

❄

“Christmas World? Really? You hate Christmas.” The charm on Alexis’ phone is dangling right over the paperwork David is trying to fill out and he swats her hand away, huffing in annoyance at his sister’s inquisition.

“I don’t hate Christmas. Just Santa. And Frosty the Snowman. And being cold, but that’s more of a winter thing, not a Christmas thing.”

“Whatever, David. I just can’t believe you’re actually going to be working there. Especially after…”

“Fuck off, Alexis.” There’s no real malice behind the words, but he really does want her to leave him alone so he can get these stupid forms filled out and meet Stevie for a bottle or two of wine. Stevie hadn’t questioned his employment decision, merely shrugging and telling him congrats before inviting him to get drunk with her after her shift ended at the front desk. Bless his only friend for knowing exactly what he needs.

Alexis stands and pushes her finger down onto the top of David’s employment form. “Fine, but you cannot pull off thirty-one, no matter how many face masks you do at night.” She’s flounced her way out of the room before he can think of a response, but leaves thirty-one down as his age anyway. Patrick will be none the wiser.

Patrick Brewer. He’d paper clipped his business card to the forms, telling David he should feel free to call him if he needed any help filling them out. And yes, David has already added his number to his phone, but if the guy’s going to be his boss he’s probably going to need it. That’s the only reason, he had lied to himself, ignoring the way he’d noticed he was smiling to himself as he’d entered the last two digits and hit save.

Picking up the coaster on the table, he looks for the motel address so he can add it to the form, forgetting that his dad had neglected to put it on there. Looking around the room, he doesn’t see anything that might be helpful and sighs as he realizes he’s going to have to fill that part out later at Stevie’s. He hopes she actually knows the address for this place, which the more he thinks about it, might actually be a stretch. This town is so small everyone just knows where everything is. His maps app on his phone always just tells him he’s already at his location no matter where he happens to be standing, which is honestly ridiculous as there are at least two streets in Schitt’s Creek. Or maybe it’s just one with a fork? 

His phone lights up with a text message and he glances over, seeing it’s Stevie asking when he’s coming over. The form in front of him just has his name, fake age and phone number on it so far, but fuck it, he needs a drink. He’s out the door on the short walk to Stevie’s apartment before he even responds to her text.

> ** _David_ ** _ : Now. Have a drink ready when I get there. _
> 
> ** _Stevie_ ** _ : do I look like a fucking bartender? and do you think I have mixers? It’s vodka or wine. you can pour those yourself _
> 
> ** _David_ ** _ : remind me why we’re friends? _
> 
> ** _Stevie_ ** _ : because I have vodka? _
> 
> ** _David_ ** _ : oh yeah. be there in 5 _

❄

* * *

❄

Stevie had more than vodka. And fuck, it’s been a long time since David has been quite this high. Whoever left that joint in the motel apparently liked the good stuff. 

“You seriously don’t know the address to the motel?”

“Why would I need to know that?”

Stevie is lying flat on her back with her head and long dark hair hanging over the side of her bed, lifting her arm up and letting it go slack and fall back to the mattress, giggling every time she smacks herself in the face.

“Why would I need to know that?” she repeats, looking upside-down over at David at his place sitting cross legged on the floor.

“Because you work there,” he counters, dropping the pen down onto his form so he can grab a handful of red vines and stuff them all in his mouth. 

“But, why would I need…”

Luckily, Stevie distracts herself mid-sentence with her own hand again, sparing David from hearing her ask the same question for a third time. He picks up his phone, thinking maybe he can distract himself on Twitter for a minute or two, when an idea pops into his head. He’s texting Patrick before his marijuana and vodka induced brain can find the synapses to make him stop.

> ** _David_ ** _ : hi David, it’s Patrick. i have a question on this form. _
> 
> ** _David_ ** _ : oops. did i call you david? I’m david. not you _
> 
> ** _David_ ** _ : can i leave the addressss blank? no one knows where i love. _
> 
> ** _David_ ** _ : live _
> 
> ** _David_ ** _ : the address I mean _
> 
> ** _David_ ** _ : i’m just leaving it blank _
> 
> ** _David_ ** _ : hope that’s ok _
> 
> ** _David_ ** _ : are you okay? yu are not responding _
> 
> ** _David_ ** _ : it’s me. david rose. _
> 
> ** _David_ ** _ : i live at the motel. it has no address _
> 
> ** _David_ ** _ : so i’m leaving _
> 
> ** _David_ ** _ : that blank _
> 
> ** _David_ ** _ : ok? _
> 
> ** _David_ ** _ : good. thanks _
> 
> ** _David_ ** _ : see you tomorrrw _
> 
> ** _David_ ** _ : ciao _

He drops his phone and the rest of the red vines onto his form and crawls over to Stevie’s bed. She’s fallen asleep in a precarious position on the edge, so he gives her a not-so-gentle shove. She grunts in the most unattractive way, but rolls over enough to not be in danger of falling on her face and he climbs over her, collapsing against the pillow with a grunt of his own. 

When he wakes the next morning, he’s alone. And his mouth, it tastes like moldy wallpaper paste and sour skittles. Stumbling out of Stevie’s bed, he makes his way to the sink to rinse his mouth with her toothpaste and some water, relishing the fresh mint as soon as it hits his tongue. He’s almost a full minute into a vigorous gargle when he hears his phone chime. It’s not coming from his pocket though, and he spits out the toothpaste into her sink and goes on a search. He finds it on the floor, on top of his employment forms for Christmas World and...wait...why..._ oh god...no _.

Flashes of random words ping against the back of his brain and he scrambles to the floor to grab his phone, alternating between curses and prayers as he opens his text messages and begins to read.

** _Patrick_ ** _ : Uh, hi David. I looked up the address for the motel in the town directory. So, yes, you can leave that line blank and I’ll fill it in for you when you get in. You are still coming in today? _

David scrolls up and reads the texts he had sent to Patrick last night and...well...he really knows how to make a first impression. He’s such a fucking idiot.

And he had written ciao. Ciao? He has never said that to anyone in his life ever. Okay, except for the one time that he spent a week shacking up with that italian Instagram model, but that doesn’t really count. 

How is he supposed to show his face in that store today? But wait… Patrick’s text back sounds like he hopes to see him. And he didn’t even say anything about the insanity of David’s texts from last night. Maybe Patrick is just waiting to tell him in person that he’s fired? Like, he can’t do it over text for legal reasons?

Fuck. How is this is his life? 

Squaring his shoulders, he takes a deep breath in, steadying himself as he composes a reply to Patrick’s text.

> ** _David_ ** _ : Thank you. I’ll be in at 10. _

David can see the three little dots pop up immediately signalling Patrick is typing a reply and he waits in anticipation, hoping if he is getting fired that Patrick will just do it now and get it over with. 

> ** _Patrick_ ** _ : Oh good. I was worried you might not feel up for it. _

Oh.

> ** _David_ ** _ : Yeah. Sorry about that. _
> 
> ** _Patrick_ ** _ : No need to apologize. I had a good laugh. _
> 
> ** _Patrick_ ** _ : I’m sorry I wasn’t around to answer. I was at a thing. _
> 
> ** _David_ ** _ : It’s definitely a good thing you didn’t answer. I’m mortified enough as it is. _
> 
> ** _Patrick_ ** _ : We’ve all drunk texted, David. It’s really okay. _
> 
> ** _David_ ** _ : Yeah, but usually that ends up with an ill-advised hook up, at least in my experience. I didn’t even get that. _

What the fuck did he just say? Oh my god. Can he erase that somehow?

> ** _David_ ** _ : Can you pretend you didn’t see that last text? _

There’s a long pause and David feels like maybe he’s going to be sick.

> ** _Patrick_ ** _ : Uh, sure thing. I’ll see you at 10. _
> 
> ** _Patrick_ ** _ : ciao. ;) _

What’s with the winky face? This Patrick guy isn’t shaping up to be anything like David imagined him to be and David’s pretty damn sure he’s not getting fired today after all.

> ** _David_ ** _ : we’re not doing ciao. _
> 
> ** _Patrick_ ** _ : ok _
> 
> ** _Patrick_ ** _ : aloha! _
> 
> ** _David_ ** _ : no _
> 
> ** _Patrick_ ** _ : adios? _
> 
> ** _David_ ** _ : Patrick _
> 
> ** _Patrick_ ** _ : I thought I was David? _

David laughs out loud at that, realizing suddenly that he’s smiling like an idiot while flirt texting with his new boss. And he’s not the only one. But then again, he might still be a little bit high, so he’s not really trusting much about his reality at the moment.

> ** _David_ ** _ : bye, Patrick _
> 
> ** _Patrick_ ** _ : ;) _

❄

* * *

❄

This time he’s prepared for Jingle Bells to welcome him into the store, so he’s surprised to hear only the distant sound of humming coming from the back room. His hangover thanks whatever glitch has spared him. 

Patrick emerges with a box full of garland, immediately giving David a devastatingly adorable grin as soon as he sees him.

“What happened to the door chime?”

Patrick deposits the box next to the register and walks over to David, pointing up at the small white box on the top of the door jam. 

“I unplugged it. If I had to hear that song one more time, I was afraid of what I might do.”

Oh, thank fuck.

“Understandable.”

Patrick is just standing there with his arms crossed over his chest, smiling at David in a way that’s making David feel just a little off balance. He wonders if Patrick knows how attractive he is, with his baby blue shirt cuffed to his elbows and his haircut that’s just a little bit too short and those whisky colored eyes that remind David of his sister’s Cabbage Patch dolls she used to carry around the family estate. Sure, none of that would normally qualify as attractive, at least not in David’s extensive experience, but with Patrick, it all works together to create this appealing button-like package that’s making David feel just a little too warm in his sweater.

“Uh, so...here’s my forms.”

He hands Patrick the papers and places his hands on his hips, anxious to just get started doing something, anything that might use up some of this nervous energy.

“You figured out your address,” Patrick says, his tone sarcastic, but his smile...friendly. No...flirtatious. Both? God, David really just needs something to do.

“I did. So, what I can work on?”

Patrick seems taken aback for a moment at David’s abrupt question, but recalibrates quickly, reaching under the register for a big binder with the Christmas World logo emblazoned across the front. 

“You think you can take care of merchandising? Corporate has very specific rules on how everything is supposed to be set up. You’ll find each shelf has a diagram with exact placement in this binder.”

David takes the heavy manual from Patrick and begins to flip through the pages, noticing immediately just how wrong everything is from the start. Nodding at Patrick, he takes it over to the first shelf by the door and begins to open one of the boxes. “I’ve got this handled.”

“Great. Um, I’ll just be in the back on the computer. The inventory sheets they sent over are a complete mess and I have to start from scratch. If you need me...just holler. Or...you could always send me a text.”

David looks up at him at that remark and sends him a smirk, which Patrick just returns with a smile before disappearing into the back room. God, why is he the way that he is? And why is David smiling like an idiot into a box of gold lacquered angels. 

He opens about five more boxes before the plan takes shape and he spends the next hour separating everything out on the long tables. The first two shelves are looking pretty much done when Patrick pops his head out of the back, that same adorable smile curving his lips as he walks over to David with his hands stuffed deep in his pockets.

“Wow, this looks great. You really know what you’re doing, huh?”

Pride has David standing a bit taller, suddenly realizing just how starved for praise he’s been at hearing Patrick’s compliment. 

“I just have a knack for knowing what’s correct,” he replies truthfully. 

Even when it comes to gaudy Christmas decorations, he knows how to make things beautiful, or at least seem beautiful with a creative enough presentation. What Patrick doesn’t know is he’s ignored the manual altogether, as it makes absolutely no sense to arrange the ornaments by type instead of theme and color. Keeping similar colors together, a customer is more likely to buy many ornaments that match instead of just one random turtle dove out of a sea of different colored turtle doves. It’s common sense, really.

“I can see that.” 

Patrick’s eyes latch onto David’s for a brief moment and David’s fingers tighten their hold on the silver rocking horse ornament he’s holding as heat sparks between them like a camera flash. His mouth feels suddenly dry and he quickly wets his lips with his tongue and he swears he sees Patrick’s eyes flit down towards his mouth before he’s turning away and looking towards the front door. The front door that’s opening now thanks to Alexis, pushing her way into the store and interrupting what David felt like was possibly a moment, or something…

“Oh my god, David, this place is -”

David cuts her off before she says something that will finally be the thing that gets David fired.

“Alexis, what are you doing here?”

“Don’t be rude, David. I just came by to say hi.” 

She walks right up to Patrick and holds out her hand, wrist limp and fingers pointed towards the floor. “Hi, I am Alexis, and I’m currently studying business and I’m David’s sister and life coach..so.... ”

Patrick takes her hand and shakes it. “Well, it’s great to meet you, Alexis. I’m Patrick.”

“My boss.” David supplies, giving Alexis a pointed look until she drops Patrick’s hand with an exaggerated eye roll. 

“So, what are you two boys up to in here all by yourself?” She narrows her eyes at David, knowing exactly how that sounded and just what buttons to push to make David’s cheeks go flaming red with embarrassment. 

“Uh, nothing scandalous,” Patrick chuckles, “unless you find excel worksheets exciting, which no one ever does.”

Alexis is leaning in now, toying lightly at the edge of Patrick’s collar with her manicured fingernails.  
  
“I don’t know what that means, but I have a knack for making any situation I find myself in exciting, isn’t that right, David?”

“Don’t you have homework to do, Alexis, you know, for your _ high school _ business class.”

Alexis whirls around and gives him a disgusted look, but Patrick speaks again before she gets a chance to lash a jab back.

“You know what, Alexis, if you want to learn how to use excel, I’m happy to show you the inventory I’m working on in the back?”

The self-satisfied look Alexis skewers David with before she turns back to Patrick is something she obviously picked up from their mother. 

“That so sweet of you, Patrick. Lead the way.”

Patrick shoots a wide-eyed smile over at David before ushering Alexis into the back room and David feels his stomach drop. Well, that answers that. Patrick’s eagerness to get his sister alone shouldn’t be surprising, as Alexis can tangle just about anyone up in her web with less than an ounce of effort, but it definitely still stings. As he goes back to gathering all of the blue ornaments on the third shelf down, he tries to tamp down any lingering disappointment, doing his best to be thankful for Alexis helping him avoid falling for his, apparently, straight as a ruler boss. 

❄

* * *

❄

“Sorry I’m late, it’s been a morning.” 

Distracted is too mild a word to describe David’s state at the moment, so much so that he doesn’t even notice that he’s speaking to an empty store. He collapses onto a chair and covers his face, silently screaming into his hands in hopes it will release the tension that’s been gathering in every cell of his body since Sebastien Raine waltzed his hipster ass into the motel this morning. The only good thing about this miserable town is no one from David’s life would ever see him here, or so he had hoped, until today.

Patrick chooses that moment to walk back into the store, one hand carrying a to-go cup from the cafe with another tucked in his elbow. David peers at him through spread fingers and Patrick’s jaw drops slightly at the obvious distress on David’s face, or at least what he can see of it through David’s hands. 

“Everything okay?” His voice is tentative, but his eyes are warm and soothing as he crosses to David’s side, dropping the coffee cups on the table before kneeling down in front of David’s chair. His hand drops onto David’s knee, his calloused fingers brushing David’s skin through the artfully designed hole in the denim. It’s a real touch, somehow managing to affect him more than the two pretentious kisses Sebastien had pressed to his cheeks a mere half an hour earlier. And fuck, he wants to scream again. But he doesn’t. He does, however, drop his hands and plaster on a small smile.

“I’m fine, sorry. Just having a dramatic moment. It’s over now.”

“Are you sure? Need to talk about it?”

Oh hell no.

“No, but thanks, I’m good.” And he is, surprisingly. His bounce back rate seems to be shortening the more time he spends with Patrick, which is something he can’t really process right now. “Is one of these for me?” He gestures to the two coffee cups and Patrick uses David’s knees to push to his feet. David hadn’t realized they had reached the point where casual touching is a thing they do, but he can’t say he’s unhappy with this new development.

“That one, yes. Twyla mentioned you hadn’t been into the cafe yet this morning, so I thought you might need your coffee.”

Wow. Patrick really is a good guy. An honest to god, take him home to momma and put a ring on it kind of good guy. 

“Thanks, that’s really nice of you.”

Patrick just waves him off and takes his own cup over to the register. 

“So, David, there’s something I’ve been meaning to speak with you about.”

“Okay…”

“Well, it’s just that, I’m not really sure what I’m supposed to do, because I’m usually a pretty straight and narrow kind of guy, but I also know the value in taking risks, so you’ve put me in a bit of a situation here.”

Wait, huh? David looks up at Patrick, trying to catch up with the unexpected turn this conversation seems to have taken. 

But then, Patrick reaches beneath the counter and grabs the merchandising binder and David’s heart sinks to his stomach. David takes a long sip of his coffee, bracing himself for the inevitable firing coming his way. Of course this would happen today, of all days, because it’s not like today wasn’t already a complete and utter dumpster fire already. 

“Look, Patrick, it’s just that the way they wanted things done, it was an absolute disaster and completely incorrect. No one shops for Christmas ornaments that way. Isn’t my way better?”

He stands up and gestures to the almost full shelves, stacked and arranged in various themes and ornate displays, the snowy white and silver collection on the front table his personal favorite. “I mean, look, here…” Running his hand over the rack of gold mini instruments and bells, he lets his fingers tangle in the gold beaded garland hanging right beneath. “Wouldn’t you buy all of these if you saw them together?”

Patrick’s hand is still resting on the binder, but he hasn’t opened it. He’s just looking at David and not saying a word. David feels defeated, resigned and he plops back in the chair. Patrick doesn’t come over to comfort him this time, though. 

But he does walk over to the gold display, and then the red, and finally the blue, which happens to be right beside David’s head. He picks up a tiny bluebird ornament and lets it hang from his fingers and David watches as his impassive face transforms into a smile. 

“So, you understand my dilemma.”

He looks down at David, shaking his head, but still smiling. “Your way is ten times better, David. And I think we’ll sell a lot more with things with the shelves set up like this. But Christmas World is a corporation and they have rules and I...I need to think about what to do.”

“Okay?”

David isn’t sure of what he’s supposed to do now, while Patrick thinks. 

“Why don’t you take the day? I need to crunch some numbers and do some forecasting. You seemed to not be having a great day anyway, so maybe having some time off isn’t so bad?”

“So, I’m not fired?”

Patrick’s eyebrows fly up and he’s stammering, “No, no, of course not,” as his hand comes down to rest on David’s shoulder to give it a reassuring squeeze. And, they’re back to the touching again. David stands up, barely fighting the urge to hug him he’s so close, but just smiles and murmurs, “Thanks, Patrick,” as he takes his coffee and exits the store as fast as he can.

Fuck. What even is today?

Later that night as he’s lying in bed, the memory card with the photos his Mom got tricked into taking fizzing away in his drink, and the hipster asshole who took them snoring loudly next to his ear, David feels a little piece of himself jigger back into place. People had used him for sex his entire young adult life, so it felt like vindication getting to turn the tables on one of his most haunting of ghosts. And the sex itself, it had been boring, or maybe he’s just bored of people like Sebastien Raine. The depth of the man is seriously the length of a toothpick.

And he’s been staring at the ceiling for an hour now, rehearsing a speech for Patrick in his head to plead with him if he decides that they have to move everything back to the correct shelves at the store. He just can’t compromise his vision. Not when he knows he’s right.

His phone lights up on the bedside table and he reaches for it quietly, not wanting to wake Sebastien, who he honestly doesn’t have any desire to converse with ever again. It’s a text message, from Patrick. Okay, he can do this speech over text if he has to.

> ** _Patrick_ ** _ : let’s do it your way _

David closes his eyes and smiles up at the ceiling for a moment before typing up his reply.

> ** _David_ ** _ : thanks for trusting in me _  
** _  
Patrick:_ ** if we both get fired, you owe me a drink
> 
> ** _David_ ** _ : we work in a shop completely devoted to christmas. we should be drinking already _
> 
> ** _Patrick_ ** _ : good point. _

This would be an interesting moment to test the waters with Patrick, see if he’d balk if David asked him out...for a drink. Alexis told David yesterday that she hasn’t heard from Patrick since that one day in the store, so there’s apparently no interest there, which has kept David’s curiosity peaked. But then again, the man sleeping next to him, he’s the kind of guy that David usually attracts, not a nice guy like Patrick. And maybe he should just leave things as they are...not mess things up.

> ** _David_ ** _ : see you tomorrow? _
> 
> ** _Patrick_ ** _ : definitely. Goodnight, David. _
> 
> ** _David_ ** _ : Night, Patrick. _

When he does finally doze off, he dreams of Christmas, of standing outside in the snow with four strands of fairy lights surrounding him, each adorned with one golden ring. There’s a fifth ring, but it’s just out of reach, swinging from the beak of a tiny bluebird.

❄

* * *

❄

“Oh my god, what are you wearing?”

David’s head snaps towards the open door and feels his cheeks go red as he sees Stevie, who has stopped in her tracks and is staring right at his head. His head, which currently is covered with a shower cap underneath a green felt hat adorned with big floppy elf ears.

“Don’t say a word.”

Stevie walks right up to him, but stops a few steps away and takes out her phone. She’s snapped a photo before he can extract himself from the strand of lights he’s been untangling to stop her.

“Delete that. Immediately.”

She just shakes her head and shoves her phone into the back pocket of her jeans.

“Not on your life.”

“I hate you.” He finally gets the last knot out of the cord and turns his back to her so he can hang them on the empty hook on the wall. There’s just a few more sections of the store to get set up before opening day, but the lights, they’ve proven to be the most annoying yet and have almost caused David to quit at least three times.

He hears the door open again and freezes, bracing himself for the moment he’d been dreading all morning. Sure, he could have just not put this fucking hat on his head, but leaving just the shower cap wasn’t an option and it was either the elf hat or the reindeer one and at least this one doesn’t light up.

“Don’t move, I have to get a photo.”

“Oh, I already did.”

Okay, that’s enough of that. Turning, he directs his most annoyed glare at Stevie, not ready to make eye contact with Patrick who is doing a really bad job of stifling a laugh.

“Is this how today is going to go, cause I’m already distressed enough and don’t need the peanut gallery over there making it worse.”

Patrick turns to Stevie and holds out his hand. “Since apparently we’re part of a gallery, I should introduce myself. I’m Patrick.”

“Stevie, but I hate peanuts,” she replies, shaking his hand as they both turn back to David at the same time to give him nearly identical smug smiles.

“So, David, I know the corporate manual calls for employees to dress in festive wear, but this might be taking it a bit too far.” Patrick is walking towards him now and David lets out a loud, annoyed sigh. “Wait, is that a shower cap?”

“Alexis has lice and I’m taking preventative measures.”

“By wearing one of our hats, that we now can’t sell?”

“Patrick, no one was ever going to buy this fucking hat.”

Patrick’s eyes narrow and he looks back at Stevie, who shrugs and says, “Fair point.”

Great, so now they are best buddies conferring with each other while he stands here mortified. This is fucking fantastic.

“I hate to be the one to ask, but are you sure you don’t have lice?” Patrick is eyeing him warily, standing just far enough away for it to be deliberate.

“My scalp doesn’t itch, so I don’t think so.” David cringes at the thought of tiny little bugs crawling in his hair, which he inspected in the mirror in the back room with the flashlight on his phone as best he could. Stevie is marching towards him now, pushing up the sleeves of her flannel as she comes to stand right in front of his face. 

“Bend down.” 

He just stares at her, incredulous and mortified, but he can’t ignore the tinge of warmth he feels at the fact that she’d actually do something like this for him. He still hasn’t moved though, so she’s reaching up and pulling off the elf hat, taking the shower cap with it. He lets out a deep, tortured sigh and does as he was told, leaning forward with his hands on his knees as all of his self respect leaks out onto the floor at his feet. He can’t think about the fact that Patrick is standing right there, watching this happen. He just can’t.

There’s a rustling sound and he feels Stevie’s fingers poking through his hair, and he figures that she’s using the shower cap to protect herself in case she finds a bug. Another cringe racks his spine and Stevie curses at him to stop moving, which has the smallest of smiles threatening to crack his facade. 

“You’re good. No bugs.”

“Are you sure?”

“David, stand up and stop being dramatic.” 

As if that’s even possible, he thinks to himself. Standing to his full height, he looks at Stevie, still doing his best to ignore Patrick as if maybe he’ll just disappear and this entire moment will have never happened.

But of course, that’s just not a thing he can have, as Patrick is the first to speak. 

“If Alexis has lice though, they are probably in your room, so staying there might not be the best idea.”

“Ugh, I know. That’s why I’ll be staying at Stevie’s tonight.” He looks over at Stevie, expecting her disapproval at his invitation, and isn’t disappointed.

“You do realize that I work at the motel and have been in all the rooms, multiple times, and could very well be carrying lice and not know it, right?”

He backs away from her instinctively, almost knocking over the lifesize nutcracker behind him in the process. 

“Oh my god! How are you saying that with a straight face? And what the fuck, you just touched me!”

She just smirks at him, then winks as she points discreetly at Patrick and then winks again. He narrows his eyes and she shrugs and turns to walk towards the door. It takes him a second to catch on, but when he does, he’s ready to kill her.

“My work here is done.”

“You’re a terrible person!”

When she’s almost out the door she looks back over her shoulder to make sure he’s watching her, which of course he is, and reaches up to scratch at her scalp. But he’s on to her now and doesn’t react except to flip her the bird.

“I like her.”

David turns his attention to Patrick, who’s smiling at him with his hands perched on his hips. 

“I have no idea why. She’s a menace.”

Patrick just chuckles and steps a tiny bit closer to David, which must mean he’s no longer afraid of catching the lice. This should make David feel a bit better, but he’s reeling a bit after Stevie’s departure and her obvious attempt at matchmaking. 

“So, if you need somewhere to crash tonight, I’m sure Ray won’t mind if you stay with us.”

Wow, he couldn’t have made that invitation less sexy if he tried. In fact, the threesome image it immediately conjured is enough to make him want to throw up in his mouth a little, but he does his best to not outwardly react. 

“Um, I’m not sure if…”

“Honestly, David, it’s fine. I’ll take the couch and you can sleep in my room. I don’t think we can risk you catching…”

David puts a finger in the air directed right at Patrick’s face. “Stop. No more mentioning of me catching anything. I’ve reached my personal trauma limit for the day.”

Patrick smiles at him in that stupid way that he does where he looks infinitely amused, and maybe a little bit smitten, but David’s unsure if he’s adding that last bit out of sheer hopefulness. He has no idea of Patrick’s preferences, so he really needs to stop thinking of this man as anything but his very friendly boss. Who just happens to be just mildly attractive. You know, if you happen to like that kind of thing.

“Good, then you’ll come?”

His eyebrows raise and Patrick’s face goes pale, well, paler than normal anyway, and his hands do a deep dive back into his pockets.

“To my place, I mean. Tonight.”

David doesn’t see another option and he’d be outright lying to himself if he said he wasn’t curious, so he nods, which makes Patrick smile, which shouldn’t churn his belly so much, but it does.

❄

* * *

❄

Despite having packed his bag that morning before leaving the motel, David told Patrick that he’d meet him at Ray’s later, knowing he’d need an hour or two to mentally prepare for whatever the night ahead had in store. As payback for her behavior earlier, he’d demanded Stevie join him for dinner at the cafe, where she did her level best to calm him down and, unfortunately, ramp up his expectations. She’s convinced Patrick’s into him. From one interaction. Which is ridiculous. Isn’t it?

Whatever it is or isn’t, he’s here now and he can’t stand on this porch any longer without looking like a creeper. Knocking, he waits to hear footsteps, but is surprised by a sock clad Patrick sneaking out the door to stand next to him on the porch.

“Um, we have a bit of a situation.”

It takes David a moment to respond, as he’s very much distracted by Patrick’s appearance. Used to only seeing him in clothes straight from an old school Gap ad, he’s a bit unprepared for this t-shirt and sweatpants combo, both garments fitting entirely too snug in all the right areas. 

“Okay?”

“Yeah, so...Gwen locked Bob out and then he locked himself out of his truck and Ray told him he could crash here on the couch.”

“Who’s Gwen?”

Patrick, who is now leaning against the railing of the porch, looks at David quizzically, as if David’s question derailed him momentarily from whatever course he thought this conversation would go. It’s a look David’s used to, as his lack of filter has often knocked people off balance.

“Okay, so the couch is taken. I can just…” David trails off, unsure as to where he can go, as despite knowing Stevie was just fucking with him earlier, he’s not entirely sure if her place is lice free.

“Oh, I’m not saying you can’t stay here, but...we both will have to sleep in my room. But I can sleep on the floor, so…”

Patrick is looking down at his socks and not meeting David’s eyes, which is probably a good thing, as he might see the warring reactions to this new information playing out on David’s face. He’s at once nervous, anxious, touched and excited, many of these feelings in complete contrast. But he’s also learned to be a pragmatist in the many years he’s lived in this town and the situation facing them is just something they can both work through together.

“Patrick, we’re grown men. Unless your bed is a twin, I’m sure we can share. Don’t forget, I sleep in a small hotel room every night with my adult sister, so...I’m adaptable.”

Patrick finally looks up and even in the waning light of early evening, David can see the blush creeping up along his neck and onto his cheeks. He looks so young, suddenly, and something about that makes David feel a bit more steady. 

“If you’re sure.”

“I am.”

Patrick’s confidence appears to return slightly, as he’s once again smiling wide as he turns towards the door, holding it open so David can step inside. 

It takes almost a half hour to get upstairs, between Ray and Bob talking at them back and forth like a never ending game of tennis. David eventually just starts walking upstairs, thanking Ray as he yawns dramatically into his hand. He can hear Patrick chuckling under his breath behind him, but he doesn’t feel bad as Ray and Bob have already moved on to another conversation about whether Ray can fit a key making machine somewhere in his already cramped first floor.

“That’s a new record. I’m usually stuck down there for at least an hour.”

David stops at the top of the stairs as he has no idea which room is Patrick’s, which Patrick must realize as his hand lightly brushes the small of David’s back as he slides around him to lead the way. The unexpected touch has David’s stomach churning with renewed nervousness, but he’s damn sure that there’s more than a hint of anticipation at play as well.

The room Patrick gestures for him to enter would probably have shocked him a few years ago, but after living in a motel for as long as he has, too much floral and a hideous brass headboard seems pretty on brand for this town. Patrick, however, must be expecting some sort of comment, as he’s scratching behind his ear as he looks at David with unmistakable embarrassment from the doorway. 

“Looks cozy,” he says, truthfully. Ray, as annoying as he can sometimes be, has always been friendly and welcoming and despite the tackiness, that feeling radiates here in his home. Patrick’s relief is evident in how his body goes a bit less rigid and he finally follows David into the room.

“It is. Ray’s been a godsend, helping me find a job and letting me rent out this room. I’m really thankful.”

David just smiles and they stand there, awkwardly, frozen at the foot of the bed. This goes on for about four seconds, but it feels like an eternity and David’s hand begins to cramp from the nervous energy manifesting in the death grip he has on his overnight bag.

“Uh, you can take this side,” Patrick finally says, gesturing to the right side of the bed. “And the bathroom is right across the hall. I’ll pop in there now so you can change, or whatever...”

“Okay, thanks.” 

Patrick is closing the door for him before David’s words are out of his mouth. 

As he finally drops his bag on the bed, he covers his face with his hands and takes a deep, centering breath. He hasn’t felt like this since the first time he got drunk with his best guy friend in middle school and they found themselves groping each other in the pool house, neither of them speaking about what it meant or what would happen next. There was just this energy, like magnets, drawing them together for reasons they had no choice but to obey. And he shouldn’t be letting himself feel this way about Patrick, because he doesn’t think he’s equipped to deal if it turns out he’s the only one feeling this pull.

Opening his bag, he fishes out his drawstring pants and t-shirt, calming himself with each gentle fold of his designer sweatshirt once he’s pulled it over his head. This doesn’t have to be a thing. It can just be what it is. Two guys who...work together, sharing a bed. 

As if that’s a thing that happens? Who does that happen to outside of love-struck characters in fictional romances? No one. But he can just pretend that this is normal, since nothing about his life has been normal for quite a long time.

Once he’s changed, he opens the door so Patrick knows it’s okay to come back in. If he can make this any less awkward for them both, he’s anxious to do so. For that same reason, he makes sure to smile when Patrick comes back into the room and thank him again before taking his toiletry bag to the bathroom to get ready for bed. And yes, he takes an extra minute or two in the bathroom massaging his moisturizer into his skin as well as dot a drop of lavender essential oil to each of his temples. He’ll do anything within his power, and within his many lotions and salves, to quell the anxiety of his current situation.

Patrick is under the covers on his side of the bed when David returns to the room, leaning against the headboard with his hands clasped in his lap. 

“All good?” he asks quietly and David nods, dropping his toiletries back in his bag beside the bed. 

You could hear a pin drop it’s so quiet as he slides beneath the covers and lies on his back. He wishes he knew if Patrick is feeling the same tension, cause he feels pulled so tight he’s afraid he might snap if he says or does the wrong thing. He ventures a quick look and Patrick’s head turns at the same time and he’s not sure who smiles first, but soon they are both expelling loud breaths like balloons that were filled just a little too full.

Okay, so yes, he’s not completely alone in this.

“I’ll just get the light.” Patrick leans over and turns off the bedside lamp and David can feel him settling down on the mattress. As soon as his eyes adjust to the dark, he looks over and sees Patrick is also on his back, fingers picking at his cuticle or maybe a hangnail. 

“This town needs a decent manicurist, Stevie took me to the one salon in town and to say it was traumatic would be an understatement.”

Patrick shuffles a bit, shaking David a bit on the mattress, but when Patrick speaks again, David realizes he’s turned to face him in the dark.

“So, Stevie, she’s your girlfriend?”

“Oh, no, no. I mean, there was a time, and it was brief, but no, she’s just a friend. My only friend, really.”

Wow, that’s not something he’s ever said out loud before. 

“What am I then?”

Turning towards Patrick, David tries to see his eyes, but can’t quite make them out. Patrick had asked the question in a teasing tone, but the import of the answer feels heavy, monumental even.

“Well, you’re my boss, for one. Beyond that, I guess I don’t want to assume.”

Patrick is quiet and David closes his eyes, wishing he could just be up front and ask for what he wants, instead of putting Patrick in the position to define things. 

“I’d very much like us to be friends, David. I mean, we are having a sleepover and from my memories of childhood, that’s something friends do.”

David smiles up at the ceiling. Patrick is so charming that it completely disarms him and he doesn’t even feel an ounce of disappointment at not hearing Patrick’s desire for them to be more than friends. 

“My childhood was undoubtedly very different than yours, but I’ll take your word for it. And yes, I gladly accept your offer of friendship. But if you and Stevie gang up on me again, I’m disowning you both.”

Patrick’s laugh reverberates in the small room and straight into David’s chest. Even with former lovers, he can’t remember a time when he’s laughed in bed with someone. Especially not someone as nice and warm and genuine as Patrick. God, thinking about his past is really not pleasant, so he shuts those memories down for the night.

“I still can’t believe you were wearing that hat.” Patrick is still laughing, so David turns on his side to face him, attempting to send him his most withering glare. 

“I’ve changed my mind, this friendship thing just isn’t going to work out.”

“I guess that means you need to leave then, I only have sleepovers with my friends.”

Oh, there are so many suggestive comebacks David could say to that, but he’s feeling good, joking around with Patrick and the last thing they need is for that tension to creep back in and fuck it all up. 

“Okay, fine. But you’ve got one strike, three more and you’re out.”

Patrick is laughing again and David has no idea why, but he loves the sound of it and doesn’t really care. And wow, he must be hanging around with Patrick too much if he’s making sports references on his own now. David’s cheeks hurt from the smile he’s pressing into the side of his hand beneath his head on the pillow, watching Patrick’s laugh fade into a quiet chuckle. And he’s pretty sure they’re smiling at each other now, mirroring one another on the mattress with just a foot or so separating them. And it’s nice. And yeah, that static energy feels like it’s creeping back in, but it’s just a little bit warm and not hot in the way that would normally make him feel jumpy. 

“There’s something I’ve been curious about.”

_ I bet _, David thinks to himself. 

“Hmm?”

“What were you planning to do with the store? You know, if there wasn’t a Christmas World.”

It still stings whenever David thinks about this, but he really likes talking to Patrick and there’s also maybe a small part of him that wonders if Patrick thinks what he would have done is a good idea or an outright failure.

“Well, it was still going to be a kind of general store, but I’d hoped to work with local artisans, vendors and farms to put together products that I’d sell on consignment, but with everything re-branded under the name of the store. The old general store was such a mess and had no sense of flow or aesthetic, and, well...I thought maybe I could curate...I don’t know...something more than just perfunctory.”

Patrick is quiet, but David’s learned that sometimes that just means he’s processing. He’s not much of a speak before you think kind of guy, so David just waits, and hopes to hear something positive.

“You know, David, that business model is actually very sustainable. More so than a store completely devoted to one holiday in a town with a population of maybe 600.”

David smiles into the dark, proud that his business-minded boss, and friend, likes his idea.

“I even had a number of vendors already expressing interest. They were pretty bummed when everything fell through. Mr. Hockley was working up a special tea blend just for Rose Apothecary.”

“Oh, was that what you were going to name it?”

Crap, he hadn’t meant to reveal that. It’s all sounds silly now that the store isn’t happening.

“Uh, yeah. I was oscillating between two names, back when, but that one was probably going to be it.”

“I like it. It’s just pretentious enough.”

“Would we call that pretentious, or timeless?”

Patrick chuckles and David moves to his back, smiling into the dark as he lets himself feel good at sharing this dream with Patrick. Stevie’s the only other person who’s ever heard his plan, but there’s something about Patrick hearing it, and liking it, that makes him feel that maybe it’s not completely dead. That maybe, if the stars align, someday, he can still make it happen.

“I hope you get another chance, David. I really do.”

The warmth he feels at those words is enough to make him break out in a sweat. 

“Thanks, Patrick. So do I.”

They both fall quiet after that, but it’s not an uncomfortable kind of silence. David turns back to his side and gets comfortable, feeling his eyes grow heavy as the long day eventually catches up. 

“Goodnight, David.”

Patrick sounds like he’s half asleep, which makes David’s heart ache a little at the sweetness of the sentiment.

“Night, Patrick.”

When David wakes, it’s not exactly a moment straight out of a romantic comedy, but it’s not a horror show either. Patrick isn’t cuddled up to him with his head on his chest or spooning him with his lips pressed against his neck, but he his definitely more on David’s side of the bed than his own. And his hand, it’s wrapped around David’s elbow, and has been for a while by the warmth radiating from his fingers into David’s skin. 

As David watches him sleep, he notices how Patrick’s lashes fan out on his cheek and how rosy his lips look next to the paleness of his skin. He’s beautiful, but not in the way David’s used to defining beauty in his past. He’s not model gorgeous or some sun-kissed Grecian God, but he’s real, rounded edges where David would have once craved angles, warmth radiating from his ginger tinged scruff to his brown, oh god...he’s awake. Patrick’s eyes are opening, blinking slowly until he’s looking at David and then he’s smiling, just slightly, so David smiles back. But then, Patrick seems to register where his hand is and his eyes widen quickly before closing again, breaking the moment almost as quickly as it had begun.

“Oh, sorry,” he’s mumbling as he pulls his hand away before rolling onto his back to rub at his eyes.

“Not a problem.” David throws the covers off his legs and gets out of bed, reaching down to grab his bag before looking back down at Patrick. “You mind if I use the bathroom first?”

Patrick is still on his back and staring at the ceiling and David isn’t sure if he’s even heard David’s question. But then he seems to shake himself into the moment and looks over at David, smiling, if somewhat forced, before finally answering.

“Go ahead, I think I’m going to head out for a quick hike. Can I just...meet you at the store later?”

A hike? Really? People actually choose to do something like that on purpose? But Patrick is obviously a bit distracted and David senses that maybe he needs some time alone. So, he just nods and heads to the bathroom to do what he can to make himself presentable, hoping that when he sees him at the store later, Patrick will be back to normal.

❄

* * *

❄

It’s three weeks later and things, well, they are most definitely not normal. Not in the least. First off, the store opened last week and the town of Schitt’s Creek is insane. They’ve practically wiped out half of the store’s inventory and it’s only July. Who does this much Christmas shopping in the middle of the summer? 

And second, it’s his birthday. His birthday that his entire family has forgotten about, leaving him grumbling into a sea of snow globes as he wipes the finger smudges off the glass domes. It’s not like he wants to celebrate getting older, but it would have been nice to have a little fanfare, or a cake. Who doesn’t want cake? 

“Hi David!”

Startled, he whirls around to find Mrs. Hockley, the wife of the farmer who sells Stevie her pot, standing behind him with a small bag clutched in her fingers. 

“Oh, hi Peggy, how can I help you?” He digs deep for that friendly tone, hoping it’s coming off as genuine.

“Actually, I wanted to talk to Patrick, but I can’t seem to find him anywhere.”

“Oh, he’s on a call with our corporate office in the back, something important enough that he asked to not be disturbed. Want me to let him know you stopped in?” He’s really not in the mood to help her, so if she wants to come back later to speak with Patrick, that’s perfectly fine with him.

“Well, I...see, I wanted to show him something, but...I can show you and get your opinion, since...oh, you have such good taste and he’d probably have to run this by you anyway…”

Okay, now he’s intrigued. Yes, sometimes all it takes is a good compliment to get him going.

“I’d be happy to take a look.”

She smiles and reaches into the bag she’d been holding and pulls out the most beautiful and delicate snowflake ornament he’s ever seen. It’s made of ultra thin wire, obviously hand tied and covered in tiny, ultra reflective sequins, hanging from a thin silver ribbon tied in a meticulous bow.

“Wow, that’s beautiful!” He reaches for it and she passes it into his outstretched hand, her smile brightening as he holds it up to the light and lets it spin. It really is a stunning creation.

“You didn’t buy this here.”

She laughs and pats his elbow. “No, I made it. I’ve been perfecting the design for years so I can sell them at the local Christmas Fair every December.”

“It’s quite something, Peg, really.” 

“Oh, David, I’m so glad you like it. I wanted to show it to Patrick to see if maybe you two wanted to try to sell some here at the store? I already have half my supply made.”

David frowns slightly when he thinks about what Patrick will say, knowing what sticklers the Christmas World drones are about everything. But this, working with local artisans, it brings him back to what he’d wanted to do with this space, and he wants to make this happen. For Peg. And for himself.

“Let me see what I can do,” he says to Peg with a smile, barely cringing when her skinny fingers grab a little too hard at his wrist in delight. She leaves him with the ornament and her card and he carries it carefully to the register, trying to think of the best way to sell this idea to Patrick when he gets off his call.

Things with Patrick these past two weeks have been...good. They’re definitely friends and their banter rivals his with Stevie, and they laugh together just as often as they take each other’s friendly jabs. But, he’s caught Patrick’s eyes lingering more than once and the hug they shared after closing on opening day of the store, it was long, much longer than any hug he’s ever experienced with a man that hadn’t immediately led to a kiss or a wandering hand. Despite that, Patrick hasn’t made any actual move, and David hasn’t either, so...David’s just letting things lie...in this good place. Because good, it’s good. And David has stopped striving for great, because that, more often that not, can just lead to disappointment.

He hears Patrick moving around in the back room and prepares for his pitch for Peg’s ornament, nervous suddenly as it hits him how important this one little thing actually is to him. Patrick pushes through the curtain and walks right past the register, walking slowly towards the front door. 

“Hey Patrick, can I talk to you for a second?”

David’s eyes narrow when he doesn’t turn around, but then go wide as he watches Patrick switch the sign on the door to CLOSED and turn the lock. When he turns around, David can see that he’s holding back tears. Oh god, what is happening? David is frozen with indecision, just holding the snowflake ornament in his fingers, it’s reflection shooting tiny shards of light to all corners of the store. Patrick walks a bit closer, his eyes on the ornament for a brief moment before finding David’s and he looks so lost David just has to move. 

After setting the snowflake down on the counter, he walks over to Patrick, tentatively placing his hands on his upper arms in what he hopes is a soothing gesture. Patrick practically deflates at his touch, his own hands coming up clutch David’s arms in return, as if he needs David’s body to keep him on his feet.

“What’s going on?”

Patrick’s eyes close and he drops his chin, his voice when he eventually speaks so defeated David can barely hear the words.

“Christmas World has been bought out and they’re closing the store. Today. Right now.”

David feels like he’s been punched in the gut. No, that’s happened to him before. This feels worse.

“Just like that?”

Patrick lifts his head and meets David’s eyes and David sees the tiniest tear escape and fall to his cheek. 

“Yeah, just like that. It’s over.”

There’s something happening on Patrick’s face that David registers as being more than just disappointment about the store, something deeper and more emotional than just a business venture coming to an end. David’s own breathing is going a bit shallow, but he tries to focus on Patrick, taking a risk and reaching out to brush his thumb across the tear slowly sliding towards Patrick’s chin.

“Hey, it’s not over, you’ll find something new.” The words taste like ash on his tongue. He doesn’t want Patrick to find something else. He wants them together. Here. 

“I already found what I want.”

Patrick’s hand comes up and covers David’s and when their eyes meet, he sees naked longing there and David knows what he has to do. If it’s the wrong move, everything’s ending anyway, so what does he have to lose?

Dropping his hand from Patrick’s cheek, he curls it around the back of his neck, anticipation making him feel like he’s going to vibrate right out of his skin as he pulls Patrick in for a kiss. There’s no resistance, and even the slightest bit of movement forward by Patrick before David feels warm lips press into his, followed by Patrick’s hand clutching hard where it’s still holding on to David’s arm. Sensing approval, David lets his mouth move slowly, lips smiling slightly as Patrick leans in and actively begins to kiss him back. David loses track of everything he’s feeling at Patrick’s somewhat tentative kiss, relief, exhilaration, attraction, hope. God, it’s a lot for a first kiss and he should probably pull back so they can both have a minute to process. 

When he does, Patrick stumbles adorably forward into David as if he’s been literally knocked off his feet. Relief fills his chest like a hot air balloon at the look of wonder on Patrick’s face, knowing his risk has paid off, but still needing to hear that from Patrick in some way to steady his own nerves. 

“Okay, so maybe it’s not quite over?” Patrick says after a beat, his expression somewhat shy even as his hands are sliding down David’s arms to grab for his hands.

David shakes his head as he lets Patrick weave their fingers together. “I hope not.”

“This is all very new to me,” Patrick says as he squeezes David’s hands, “kissing a guy, I mean.”

Oh..._ oh _. Of course. A lot of Patrick’s behavior up until now is suddenly making a whole lot more sense.

“Well, I’m glad I could make that happen for you. But you know, it’s usually customary for the person having the birthday to receive the gifts, not give them.”

Patrick’s jaw drops and David realizes that this is actually new information that he must not have shared. 

“It’s your birthday? I would have gotten you something if I’d have known.”

David drops one of Patrick’s hands and leans in, bringing his pointer finger up to his lips in flirtatious invitation. Patrick’s eyes go all soft before flickering down to David’s mouth, and David takes in a breath just as Patrick closes the distance and takes David’s lips in a kiss. It starts out tender, a quick brush, followed by another, until David drapes his arm over Patrick’s shoulder, which seems to trigger something in Patrick, and the kiss takes on new life. He breathes something against David’s lips that David can’t quite make out, but soon after, he’s kissing David in earnest, crushing their noses together as David opens his mouth just enough to let Patrick’s lower lip run along his teeth. Fuck, this is good. They both untangle their fingers at the same time so arms can wrap and pull each other closer, mouths warming and learning until David has to take a breath, both physically and figuratively as the whole moment starts to feel really, really big.

Patrick seems to be in agreement, as his grip on David’s back loosens and they both pull back, not completely, but far enough to look into each other’s eyes. 

“So, I guess we’re both out of a job.”

Patrick cringes and scrunches his eyes closed for a moment, looking as though he’s trying to wish that one little detail away. His head starts to shake as he looks at David again, letting out a long sigh.

“Wanna hear something really frustrating?”

“More frustrating than being unemployed?” David jokes, which makes Patrick smile.

“Touche.” He gives David’s back a quick squeeze before stepping out of their embrace so he can lean back against the table and cross his arms over his chest.

“Our regional manager, she told me that our numbers these last two weeks were the best of any store opening in a market our size she’s ever seen. I wanted to tell her it was because of your reworked merchandising plan, but I didn’t want to raise any red flags before severance plans were discussed.”

David wants to preen like a peacock at their success, but with the store closing, it would just be ridiculous. 

“Severance? They are actually giving us…”

Patrick looks pained as he cuts David off. “Um, they’re giving me one, as management. Hourly employees...are exempt.”

Ah, of course. David just waves it off, turning so he can walk the few steps to the register and turn and sit on the counter. He’s not upset about this information, truly, and he smiles reassuringly at Patrick to make sure he knows it. Being a working stiff might still be somewhat new to him, but he’s picked up a few things from Patrick along the way and doesn’t quite feel as green as he once did. 

Something shiny by his leg catches his eye and he sees Peg’s ornament, and as he picks it up and lets it spin, he thinks about the conversation he’d been preparing to have with Patrick. Which leads to another thought, one that sets his heart off on a fifty yard dash at sprinter speed.

“I hope you get another chance…” he says under his breath, repeating the words Patrick had said to him that night, spoken quietly in the dark of his room.

“What?” 

Patrick is crossing over to him, slotting himself between David’s legs and placing tentative hands lightly on David’s knees. David switches his attention from the ornament to Patrick and indulges himself for a moment just taking in Patrick’s tender smile and warm, attentive expression. And it’s a lot, everything he’s feeling and thinking right now. But he’s not sure if a moment like this will ever come around again. So he leans in. Figuratively, that is.

“Rose Apothecary. I can take over this lease.”

He feels Patrick’s hands grip his knees just as Patrick’s smile widens and he’s nodding with enthusiasm. “Yes, David! You should. This place was meant to be yours all along, I’m sure of that now.”

_ Yours _ sounds somewhat wrong to David’s ears. _ Ours _ would be a better fit. But he doesn’t know how to say that without making a mess of things or scaring Patrick away. They’ve just taken the first step into a potential relationship. Can he risk fucking that all up by adding this to the mix? But would it be that much different than what they’ve already been doing? 

“Penny for your thoughts?” Patrick’s voice is soft, but it pulls David back to the present and he shakes his head to clear out the noise.

“Might cost you more than that,” he teases, leaning in just enough for Patrick to catch the hint and bestow his lips with a gentle kiss. It’s so fucking sweet that David worries he might melt into a puddle of goo, especially seeing the fond smile on Patrick’s face as he pulls away.

“You know, David, if you’d be at all interested in a partnership, I know someone who’ll be coming into some money soon, two months salary as manager of Christmas World to be exact.”

“They are paying you two full months salary and I get nothing!” He’s suddenly flabbergasted at the disparity.

Patrick’s head falls back as he laughs and David tries to maintain his indignant frown, but fails miserably as he looks at the man in front of him. The man who has taken one huge step today already, right out of the closet, but is standing here offering to jump off a cliff into the unknown of business ownership right here at David’s side. Fuck, if he’s not careful, he’s going to fall madly in love with this Levi’s wearing, too nice for his own good, brown-eyed boy. 

“Fine, yes, I’m open to entertaining your investment offer. But just so we’re clear, I’ll still be making all of the creative decisions…”

“...and I’ll handle the business stuff…”

David lifts his finger to stop Patrick from continuing and signals that he’s going to stand up so Patrick can take a step back. He grabs Patrick’s hand as soon as he’s on his feet and starts to lead him towards the door.

“Let’s finish the rest of these negotiations at the cafe. It’s my birthday and I need cake.”

“I could go for some mozzarella sticks, they were moderately edible the last time I had them.”

David smiles at Patrick over his shoulder at the thought of any form of fried cheese. “They do a lovely wine pairing with those.”

They share a laugh as they spill out onto the sidewalk together.

As Patrick locks up the store, David takes out his phone to shoot Steve a quick text.

> ** _David_ ** _ : lots happening, can I come by later? _
> 
> ** _Stevie_ ** _ : bring cake _
> 
> ** _Stevie_ ** _ : oh, and happy birthday _
> 
> ** _David:_ ** _ thanks _
> 
> ** _David_ ** _ : btw, we kissed _
> 
> ** _Stevie_ ** _ : who? _
> 
> ** _David_ ** _ : me and Patrick, who do you think? _
> 
> ** _Stevie_ ** _ : WHAT?!! _
> 
> ** _Stevie_ ** _ : OMG! _
> 
> ** _Stevie_ ** _ : tell me everything. _
> 
> ** _Stevie_ ** _ : David? _
> 
> ** _Stevie_ ** _ : DAVID! _

David can feel his phone vibrating in his pocket, but he just smiles a secret smile, taking Patrick’s hand again as they walk across the street to the cafe. 

> ** _Stevie_ ** _ : oh fuck you. you owe me two pieces of cake now. and wine _
> 
> ** _Stevie_ ** _ : and I told you so _

He steals one last look back at the store and for the first time in a long time, imagines how it could look like...no, _ will _ look like when it’s in his hands. He’ll place produce stands out front and maybe some seasonal flowers, and all of that holiday green will be painted a deep, classic black. And for the lettering, he envisions some tone of gold or cream, a tasteful and elegant font spelling out “Rose Apothecary” across the front in all caps. Any evidence of “Christmas World” will be forgotten, except for one thing, the partnership forged inside it’s garishly decorated walls.

🌹

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to Jess for always being a great beta! And I've got some ideas for an epilogue for this one, so stay tuned.


End file.
